Lullaby
by winterminch
Summary: Bambi de Luca's mother died for the Volturi, along with the rest of her family. Now, even if it's all she wants, they're unable to let her go free for what knowledge she has. A choice is given: a life with them is better than no life at all. Now, stuck as a false secretary and a subjugate, it is the least of her worries; the Romanian's are out for blood - no, just hers. T. Alec.


**LULLABY  
youknowitsmsrae**

* * *

_A/N: Hello there! Summer here with yet another knew story. Sorry Rise of the Guardians fans - I promise the next few chapters of Nightmares and the Fantastic Four will be out soon for each of those pieces as well! But, I just couldn't help it; I indulged in the Twilight Saga again recently, and was reminded about how happy the Volturi make me. So dark and dreamy, if ya' know what I mean. So then I said screw it, I'm finishing this idea I've had in my head since Eclipse. _

_Therefore, mwah, here's Lullaby!_

* * *

_QS: 15 years ago, a dedicated and loyal woman by the name of Amelia de Luca bravely gave her life for the members of a Coven of Vampires - no, _the _Coven of Vampires: the Italian Royals, Volturi. Seemingly forever in her dept, the Witch Twins most importantly, it was only fair that the clan would extend a vow to take care of the family she left behind - including, at the time, Bambi de Luca, a 4 year old who has over the years matured into a much older and wiser young lady. _

_However, when the Romanian Coven returns on the eve of Bambi's birthday, calling for de Luca blood for a fatal mistake Amelia made the night she died, Bambi is left in the care of the Volturi, and must learn to accept her future with the clan, whatever it may be. _

_F__or if not, there are worst things than death._

* * *

_CS: On the eve of Bambi de Luca's 20th birthday, Stefan and Vladimir Romania finally declare their war with the Volturi by slaughtering what's left of the de Luca family._

* * *

**I. FOUND**

* * *

_"Whisper, whisper, hear them sing. Lies perfect and shiny things.  
Broken dreams and hollow screams. Don't believe in the things they seem.  
Glory be, and hold to me, daughter I entrust in thee:  
Sing this song to you and your be, and you'll be free, eternally."_

+_ Amelia de Luca_

* * *

It was absolutely pouring.

Down came the heavy late August water rush, bringing a strange, unwanted forecast of showers over the normally quite warm, and for the most part dry, city of Volterra. The sun was setting gradually, far off on the horizon, casting eerie shadows upon the ground that spiked up the elder walls and back ally ways like splattered paintings of an amateur artist. The glow on the pavement shot up in reds, golds and oranges, reflecting on each passerby in a strange mirrored affect. One passerby was as innocent as a sweet little child, who beamed in delight at the rain. It wasn't often this city saw a change in weather. Another pair: an elderly couple touring the town, giggling in old age as they took cover in a thrift shop.

Each soft drop of rain fell down like a hot crystal, pattering on the ground, spattering like broken ice, forcing people out of the way. They were all quite unprepared for the onslaught.

The city was restless.

Even worse, the city was under attack.

_Crrrk - bang!_

The door of a completely deserted, red brick apartment town home flew open, smashing into the wall behind it with so much force, the screen within the wooden hanger split and fell out, mangled, cascading to the floor.

Only a half a second later, not enough time for the earth to move, the panic stricken female who'd thrown it open flew against the wind, beyond the opening like a bat straight of hell. Screaming out once as she tripped down the small set of steps on accident, she landed on her palms and knees at the bottom, scraping them open with a loose cry. Looking over her shoulder with doe-eyes and a horrified expression, she pawed onward. She didn't stop to cradle herself. She knew what was at stake if she was to just give up now - she knew, somewhere deep down inside, that she couldn't slow for anything. There was no time.

So, ignoring the hot, eye-stinging pain that echoed from her now bloody skin and bruised bones, the no older than a simple young adult shed her shoes, took a deep breath, and took off at full speed.

_Find more people, find more people, find more people! _

Her mind was like a broken record that repeated the same three words, in a frantic tone that only rose internally with the wasted seconds. She turned in a circle at the end of the street, water pooling from her skin as the thunderstorm raged on. Whirling around to find _someone_, she dove down another empty street, calling for help from anyone. _Anyone._

(Normally, the backstreet of the Italian hidden neighborhood was full of laughing children she'd babysat and watched grow over the years, and loving families who lived in harmony, even if they were plagued with a mild case of minor poverty. But now, with the storm that bang and beat like a monster trying to consume them all, everyone was tucked in warm by their fires, non-caring to what went on outside as long as it didn't concern them to get up, and didn't damage what home they had.)

She clutched her soaking wet hair between her fingers when she reached a dead end: a brick wall with mold growing up the sides, vines dangling down. She was resisting the biggest urge to screech as she looked to her left to find nothing through the sheets of rain, then right - there, _grazie a Dio_, another overhang, with a small corner ally further back. She bounded sideways, praying the pattering behind her was excess rain and not the pounding of feet.

Did anyone know what had just happened behind her?

In her own home?

Did any of them know of her coming fate?

Did anyone care?

She herself didn't even know that half of it, so how could they?

"How sweet, Vladimir," That horrible, sickle sweet voice echoed behind her off the walls in a thick foreign accent that sent chills skywards from the base of her spine to her skull. His words stunned her; the thumping heart inside her rib cage jumped into her throat as she pressed herself on to go on. _Hurry, hurry, hurry! _Her mind told her body, but she was only so fast. The rain drenching her white Sunday dress to her skin made her shiver, teeth vibrating in her mouth. Even _if_ the sun was still hot as it vanished behind the clouds, keeping the brick pavement warm by the time she turned an intersection, down another silent road, the rain was the opposite. She felt her skin prickle from the cold.

Zooming off like a frightened deer in a predator's forest, she smacked a wall, almost tripping down another flight of slippery steps. It took most of her body strength to catch the wall and pull herself up. Yet, behind her, they continued to taunt her, not out of breath, not even remotely. Her eyes began to cloud and water once more; she would let herself cry now, in this pitiful excuse for a situation.

With no course of action except to keep moving _forward, _she pretended she couldn't tell their voices were so, so _close._ That they were right on her tail, and it didn't seem like they were having any trouble catching her. Now, her plan of action was to no longer just get away, but to go somewhere with people, a population, police, _anyone._ Somewhere where she could let herself scream bloody murder at what she'd seen and cry for her family and let others save her in ways she couldn't herself anymore. Where they would look at the ever-long braid of golden curls that were slipping and sticking harshly to the side of her face, her heaving bare shoulders, and notice that the water that fell from her face wasn't just rain. That behind her, she was being tracked like a mouse in a maze, stalked by prey: two fatal hunters with the forbidden crimson eyes of death, who had slaughtered the only family she had left.

She didn't notice now, and wouldn't later either, that the affect of it so randomly pouring in Volterra, was generously washing off the red hot copper scent and scene of her family that had smeared upon her arms and dress. When she'd come home to find her family gone from her grasp, she'd collapsed to their sides long enough to hold their bodies in her arms, weeping.

And then, not a minute had passed, before _they _came down the stairs, teeth shiny with venom and blood and malice and _revenge_.

"It's adorable, Stefan, really."

She yelped out loudly when in front of her, _he _manifested like visible smoke from a metal grate in the pavement. As if out of no where, back to torment her some more, so it would seem. She registered the emotion of shock; how could it be possible that he had beaten her to where she sprinted now so easily? So quickly? She felt like she had been charging on _so fast - _and yet, the rain seemed to drift around him as he moved, with such grace and speed, that she was astonished and speechless. A part of her wondered if this was make-believe. The reality of it all told her otherwise.

Was it not enough that she'd come home to find her family just simply _gone_? Their blood spattered on the walls and floors and coating this, this _creature's _teeth as he bounded right after her, slick and dripping down his chin? It was still matted in his ash white hair, his clothing, not slipping off as fast from his body as hers. It drove her insane, the smell of copper and salt and _family _that remained on him and her, and she could have been sick if she could breathe. There was no oxygen in her lungs; she was too terrified.

Was it not_ enough_ that she already had lost so much, and now, as she crashed into him, would most likely loose so much more?

Apparently not. For whatever she'd done, for whatever her family had done to deserve it, this was her punishment.

Death.

"Feeble attempts, little girl." He began when she stepped to turn away, and continued on, not to her, but his partner, who lazily stalked into the ally. She was trapped between the two now, and it made her mewl behind her lips and back straight into a wall. "Stefan, she's actually quite 'dorable - tried to run and hide from us an' all. How like her mother. Ya' know, if I wasn't so ready for this to all be over with, I'd suggest keeping her, the little thing."

She ignored his sarcastic remarks and hissing with turning, bubbling anger.

No, not her, or her family's punishment, then. One for a mother she'd _never_ known. A mother who had left her with a father who couldn't handle the loss of his wife, depressed and tired in his age, with a fake leg made of metal and an eye patch that brought him so much torment. Yet he still loved her, though she'd left for another man. In her disappearance, she'd left behind her _own _mother, who would grow sick from worry and need constant care that would drive the rest of them into extra work. She'd left behind a lullaby for her daughter, only so she could sleep better at night.

In Italian, it was much more beautiful, but in English, her lyrics - _whisper, whisper, hear them sing. Lies perfect and shiny_ _things_.

That had been it, really, plus a few more stanzas of useless wording, but that _was it._ The only thing the girl had to hold onto, was a song.

And therefore, she snarled in internal disgruntlement.

How was it fair that she and her family had to suffer for someone she didn't even, or never would, know?

Her mother was dead; and had _died _many years ago.

It didn't matter now. He snapped his teeth in front of her face, making a fearless _click _noise that would haunt her nightmares, his ruby eyes full of hell's fire, making her scream and struggle away. All her anger was suddenly flushed out, and fright reached in and grabbed her by the throat.

She didn't want this, she didn't want this, _she didn't want this! _

This wasn't the way she would go; it couldn't be!

She was barely an adult, _caro Dio! _

These creature's couldn't be real - this had to be a lucid nightmare.

"Do not tease her, Vlad." The one called Stefan chortled, crossing his arms over his chest, as the other turned her around like a part of a fine dance. His icy fingers locked to her wrists like shackles, only to swiftly crush her arms behind her back in the most painful of locks. It brought even more streaming hot sobs to her chest and eyes, and in shattering, evil Italian, she yelled at them to let her go, and a few other choice words that would have gotten her smacked. However, her yelping was cut off when her muscles grew aflame.

She didn't just _move _that way, but he didn't seem to care against her minuscule protesting. Even worse, it didn't stop there, as with a short, stubby little kick to her backside, she was sprawled out on the dirty, grimy street, skin on fire as it rubbed all the wrong pavings and opened stinging wounds. Gravel dug under her nails as she hit the dirt, and she could hear her dress rip on the thigh. Her worst dreams were coming alive before her eyes as she smacked her head on the concrete.

"How classic: it would appear the daughter of Amelia de Luca is just as weak and pathetic as the rest of her family was."

She spat out a warm string of blood from a busted lip at the glossy black dress shoes that blocked her vision, shiny and wet as the rain pounded them to the earth. She may have had her own personal demons to face with her biological motherhood, but she wouldn't stand for this stranger-enemy to shame her family's name. Even in modern times, she had more respect for herself and kin than that.

"Frail child," She groaned in shocking pain when a fancy, gloved hand entangled in her hair, yanking her up so harshly and so fast her entire chest was off the ground. On her knees in front of the one called Stefan, she wobbled and swayed, seeing white as agony exploded in front of her eyes. She choked on a cough, gasping for air, "you're more of a cowardice than she was, proof in front of we, so acting brave is a no plus for you."

Vladimir examined his nails on one hand briefly, painted the shade of darkness, as if this torture was simply boring to him. That he did not care about how she prayed quietly an Italian poem. They shined in her eyes, his polish, and made her squint a little against the streetlights as her lips moved. The other 5 fingers still yanking through her braid made her whine and struggle on instinct, and finally, after a moment to let that sink into her like a branding whip, she was tossed aside like trash.

They both chuckled softly as his brutal strength rolled her, until the velocity smashed her right into a wall. Her skull hit the red brick coated with grime and water, opening another injury that slipped from her forehead and took her straight vision away from her. She heaved and wheezed, body aching. She might have broken something important, but she was no doctor, and wasn't very conscious either.

She saw their blurs scooting towards her.

This was it then.

This was the end.

_No. Prova di nuovo._

Her hazy, brown eyes flashed in the darkness. Her mind cleared ever so.

No. No, no, _no._

She wouldn't just, just let _go_ like that - so easy, so _weak _and whimp-like. That would only prove her attackers right, wouldn't it, as they prowled forward and called her a bug under their expensive shoes? In fact, she would crawl her way away on her knees if she had to; it was her last stand as the _last_ de Luca that she went down fighting, not crying for her family that was already gone.

Her attempt was feeble in their eyes, even if it meant the world to her. It gave her remaining strength to keep moving.

"We've got'chu, my dear, sweet little Bambi."

Stefan laughed out in a deep, throaty Romanian speech that she ignored, like she ignored the fact he'd scoffed at her gentle name too. It was a low blow she felt in her dropped stomach, even if he only lightly grabbed her by the ankle, dragging her back to his side like a dog on a leash. It almost didn't hurt as much as him spitting her name out like he did. The fact that he knew it - that he knew her forgotten _mother's_! She wouldn't put it past them to know everything about her now, and her family; the creature's seemed to do their research, or perhaps, they at least stole it. After all, she briefly recalled the man named Stefan grabbing important documents from her father's work desk while Vladimir ended her father's final breaths.

Bambi, the girl with a sinking heart, sobbed out, still struggling as her world tilted left. Blood pooled from her mouth and forehead, her ankles, knees and hands. Her energy was fleeting.

"Get it over with, Stefan." Vladimir called over his shoulder, reading those documents he'd taken from Stefan's pockets. He had a mild look of interest on his face, and he paid Bambi no mind until he sniffed the air, and could taste the venom pool on his teeth, dripping on his tongue and down his chin like drool. She was bleeding, and bleeding _fast_ and like every human, there was a blood lust that was meant to be heard.Her death would be quick and futile if Stefan didn't stop it and make her pay like they'd planned, as he wouldn't be able to control his hunger. "I'd finish 'er up myself, personally, but I don't want more blood on my teeth. She smells to much like spice rather than her father who dribbled of _rum_."

Stefan chuckled under his breath, muttering something in a language she didn't understand, grabbing little Bambi by the back of the neck. He made her feel like she was a small puppy needing direction. His actions weren't leading, but harsh and brought her instant bruises as he tilt her head back. Her throat was exposed to the sky above, where the moon began to drift beyond the clouds. A lullaby seemed to be hummed on the wind, and it settled her down, deep inside.

And then, she closed her eyes.

Finally, _finally _ready to let go.

This was it.

She was going down here, in this ally, all alone, attacked by monsters.

_Then_, she decided silently, _let it be known, Bambi de Luca went down fighting, for whatever it's meant. I didn't let go until the very end._

Just as his meaty fingers locked around her neck so tightly that she felt herself begin drifting down, down, down, sinking away, and his jaw locked, ready for expedient pain -

"Picking on the little ones now, are we, Stefan? What did the poor thing ever do to you?"

Concentration completely and utterly broken, the two smug vampires hissed in distaste and surprise, heads snapping around to that voice that shattered their cool calm and happy, torturous feelings. Vladimir turned over his shoulder, immediately disregarding the paperwork he'd had clutched between his fingertips, crumbling them in his jacket pocket to keep them hidden away. He would have burned if looks could kill. Stefan grabbed Bambi tighter in one movement, yanking her against his chest like a rag doll. Not protective, but collective, as she slouched against his chest, no strength left to control her actions. Her eyes fluttered. He snarled.

This was _their _kill - no one else could interfere.

And yet, sinister smiles turned icy, laughs to snarls, relaxed positions into sour crouches as 3 new bodies, with poise and attitude meant to murder, sauntered forward.

"None of this truly concerns you, Felix, so -" Stefan etched out one of the darkest of swear words at the man who glided forward first, hands tucked neatly behind his back. He did not appear ready for a quarrel, but he was more than prepared. Felix Volturi himself didn't let his reaction change; his stony face stayed locked, eyes forward, a deviously snarky grin laced on his face like it was threaded there thousands of years previous. Despite the rain, and how it splatted down in blotches, none of those who were new to the gory scene were phased by it. It pattered off the tight leather hunting gear strapped on their chests like they sprayed repellent, dripping from their hair and chins, as if they were made of marble. "Are you not supposed to be out of the town, so to say?"

It wasn't missed that Vladimir and Stefan Romania shared a startled glance.

"Oh?" A heartless, teasing tone broke out from another man (or were they? Were any of them truly _men, _and not monsters? It all depended on character, did it not? For that, that decision wasn't there's to be had, was it?). He shuffled forward a step or so further than the leader of the stand off, arms crossing strongly across his chest as he stared down the pair with a tight jaw and narrowed, ruby eyes. "You expected the entire Guard to go check something so small as a murdered village in Rome?" A pause. "Therefore, silence as yes, you had a poor lack of judgement, and have a wide mistake on your hands. Loosing your villainous touch, boys?"

He appeared like he could be no older than a decent 17, even if his years were much more elongated than such a tiny number. Therefore his childish behavior was disregarded as a small flux in maturity, and shunned by his much more precise sister, who stood long and proudly by his side. She said nothing, only scolding with his her eyes, simply letting the moments unfold themselves. She would take no action. Not yet.

They too wore the dark gear of Felix, yet the he of the two siblings formed fists, clenched tightly in black, leather gloves.

At the choice of the boy's speech, Vladimir's expression went from wary, to furious in an instant. Stefan stood in a swift motion, slinging the unconscious girl over his shoulder - she was not dead; not yet, at least. Her heartbeat slowed, but still pumped life through her veins. She might have a broken rib; her breath shuddered, chest awkward, but they were not done with her.

"Peace, Alec." The one called Felix placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, keeping him from pouncing forward like an animal with a thirst for war. It was clear these men and the new trespassers to the scene had no likes for each other. Alec Volturi himself bowed his head once and took a respectful step back, complying even if instinct told him to do otherwise. By accident, Stefan and Vladimir took that as a good sign that there would be no immediate retaliation, and seemed to relax just a little. From the corner of his eyes, Felix noticed, and stood broader. Obviously, the Romanians had not planned for some of Aro's men and women to stay behind from the investigation.

The female, Alec's sister, Jane, almost smiled at their stupidity.

"Not with you, dear friends." She spoke, hands drifting to her sides. "Peace is a luxury you will not possess this night." The word _friends_ rolled off her tongue like turpentine - it was no _real_ label. They were anything but. "Do not assume the Volturi knows not of your actions here this evening, and do not plan to take action either. It would be unwise."

The vampiress let her eyes slide to the girl Stefan dropped to the ground carelessly, like a sack of flour, and not someone very, _very_ important to them - _all_ of them. The Romanians wouldn't let go of grudges, just like the Volturi planned to keep their word. She, the human, hardly stirred as she hit the floor; Jane seemed to be the only one who didn't wince at her frail body hitting the ground.

"We unfortunately only did not intervene to see your intention and how far you were willing to expand your hatred. Too late for the de Luca family, we are, but not for the girl."

She pointed to the only other female present.

"You have crossed into Volterrian territory, fed and prowled on our humans - Rome, and this home we call ours. Aro is less than pleased. His orders are clear."

Stefan's blank face turned Cheshire like, twisted into a devious little expression when the Volturi took to a protected stance. His entire frame shifted as he and his partner stood side by side, internally ticking like time bombs. Behind them, was still Bambi, who came-to long enough to roll onto her stomach and pass out once again. It would have been somewhat funny if the situation wasn't so tense. It would only be soon before someone snapped and attacked first. It was felt in the atmosphere if something wasn't resolved soon.

"Is he? Pity." Vladimir spat at the ground a wad of venom, no emotion but recoil felt. Viciously, but with perplexing laughter, Stefan nudged his friend.

A quiet moment passed. The rain still fell in buckets, flooding the streets. The tiny, not forgotten woman was still out, body freezing and hidden in the shadows of her attackers who shared one more glance.

"Let's leave him a message, shall we?"

At these spoken words, the Volturi expected a lunge. A snarl. Perhaps a screech and an explosion of teeth, claws and breaking limbs. Bloodshed, if they could. But without a second's hesitation, Vladimir simply reached his arm out leisurely, and quite normally dropped a single piece of worn down paper to the city floor, no longer needed, unlike the other sheets stuck in his pocket. For a moment, it passed slowly through the air like drifting, slipping snow. They all watched it sift, entranced by it's sporadic talent. It spattered and swirled, swiveling to the ground.

When it hit the floor, soaking up more rapid than before, like Stefan, Vladimir was gone, speeding off into the distance so quickly, the Volturi would admit they were quite a little frozen. Alec snapped his head up to watch them shy away into the shadows, but soon enough, it was true. They were evaporated like air, leaving behind a piece of parchment and a body. It had not been the outcome they had expected, but the outcome they got. There was no arguing. In fact, a battle would have been disgustingly horrible for their favor in the end anyways. (They didn't, and would never, voice that truth.)

Felix was at the paper's side, rather than at Bambi's first, breathing in the material before it smudged completely from water that slipped off it's edges: his job, he knew, even if a nagging curiosity pulled his feet in the human's direction. Jane Volturi took her special time to follow behind her brother, who took initiative to make sure the de Luca girl was still even alive. She gave him instructions, and he followed them on how to examine the girl.

Rolling her over onto her back carefully, like a delicate flower that bruised like a peach, Bambi was able to gasp through her teeth, that alone. Her eyes did not open, barely flutter, and she did not think. Droplets of red mixed with water that cascaded down her face, arms, legs, _body,_ forcing her to shake. Wounds protruded from the worst of places. Skillfully, with many years of studying and practice, the brother felt her soft, shuddering rib cage, searching for the broken bone beneath the skin that was irregular. It was found, just where he expected it to be. Her collision with the streets and walls banged her up more than previously thought, and it cast a frown on his face.

Taking a hesitant little breath himself without thinking before he did so, he immediately regret his choice. His nostrils burned with desire, and his teeth were coated in a layer of venom almost instantly.

"Her blood is far too strong for me to carry her." Alec immediately backed away from the duty, literally standing and taking two fine lunges back. He hadn't hunted in so long, his red eyes were fizzling to a darker shade of maroon that would only soon flash to the black he felt in his throat. He could feel his animal instinct pleading to take over. "I will not be able to -"

"It is fine, brother." Jane placed a calming hand on his arm, before her next action, which was the exact opposite: smacking him on the back of the head at his mistake. He grimaced, lip curling up like a toddler who was in trouble for stealing a cookie from the pottery jar, while his sister gracefully leaned over the female. Unlike her brother, her own corners of mouth tilted towards the rumbling clouds that seemed to begin to run dry of rain. Lightning still lit the sky, thunder still clapped, but the rain seemed to dim, only sputtering out when the wind picked up.

Miss de Luca twitched once, a convulse of agony at the hands that grabbed her around the center, but seemed to release all external emotion as she slouched in Jane's arms.

Felix, no longer silent, looked up from the paper, smashing it between his fingers.

It fell to the floor, to be whisked far away by the sewer system. Whatever it had said would be talked of later, but not now.

"I can do this with your help." Jane continued to her brother, as if she didn't notice her friend's hasty, rash behavior by her side. The news wasn't going to be uplifting, so it seemed. Understanding her words, without a moment to think it through, Alec himself whisked his fingers through the air beautifully, as if playing a piano chord in the most soft of ways, a lullaby in thin air, when instead, a puff of tumbling black smoke swiveled from the tiniest of holes in his leather gloves. It only took a moment, but the leaking minor clouds enclosed his sister's temples, taking away major senses: the feeling of life that pounded in her arms, the smell of Bambi's blood all vanished.

She was free to move freely now, and would have no difficulty. She could even inhale if she wished.

They began to walk, or to them, what was a walk. To bystanders, they were no longer seen - to fast to be caught by the human eye. Felix flanked her right, watching for the retaliation from the Romanian Vampires who would not return anyways, and Alec her left, keep a steady grip on her elbow to direct her. She could not see, smell, hear, taste or feel. She was simply a transport for the human now.

They moved in silence, a whistle through the air.

"We owe Amelia de Luca our lives, whatever they may be," Jane murmured to her friends through a normal, blank, straight face, ducking through the now very largely open wooden gate of a stone castle minutes later. The torch lamps were lit, creating a tunnel she was beginning to recognize. Alec was letting up on his gift, and she was returning to her normal state, able to feel the warmth of the light on her marble skin, able to see shapes through a dull telescope. Miss Volturi realized they had crossed miles in record time, now, finally, really _home_.

She almost smiled.

Bambi was still wrapped in her arms like a worn out child, and Jane was more than internally troubled, keeping her grin at bay. Unable to tell if there was still a pulse, or breathing, any sign of life, uncharacteristically confounded her. She could feel none of those things, or hear them, as Alec disregarded her meaningful look and continued to block her. He originally had been giving her little things back, a little at a time, yet it appeared now he was worried for her reaction. He himself was not breathing, struggling, so Bambi must have been still quite _dying_. However it be the better way that it was Jane was unable to render her senses, she didn't like not knowing if the important girl had made it at all, and if their rescue party had completely failed, just like their hunting party had been in the end result.

Felix closed the wooden door behind them, using a heavy, hefty steel lock to shut them in; it still creaked awkwardly from when a certain Cullen girl had broken it in a long while back. He let his eyes roll; their problems and plans were much bigger now than the Clan of the Pacific Northwest.

"We owe Amelia de Luca our lives, whatever they may be," Jane began again, this time ready to continue, "and she is dead, and has been dead for quite some time, so my question is: _what_ were we doing there?"

Her brother was silent, truthfully a quite bit perplexed on how to answer her, for her question made no sense. Hadn't it been her who had convinced Aro to let them look for the family, all those years ago, in the first place? Wouldn't it be her who felt the sting of the de Luca family death more than any other?

In the end, Felix, voicing the question in his tone, was the one who spoke up.

"...and for her sacrifice, we vowed to Amelia to watch over her family." Jane was gradually beginning to get her hearing back now, as Alec lost his train of concentration and stamina to hold out his gift for this long, and caught the ending of Felix's reminder of the past. He sounded like it was believed Jane was simply going mad, and her jaw tightened in spite. "Jane, though we may be above humans, our laws do dictate that when a vow is ma -"

"Don't read to me the laws, Felix." She pressured his name from her lips in warning, maneuvering down a flight of steps to a very quaint looking area, unlike the dark and dungeon feel that had waltzed through seconds before. There was a desk to the left, a holding zone further beyond, with flimsy metal filing cabinets full of trinkets and knowledge. In the chair was a very sleepy looking receptionist who was tracing her name on a piece of paper repeatedly with a pen running out of ink. Jane's voice carried, and looking up quite bored, the secretary might have even said something witty, or pissed off, until her expression changed entirely upon seeing the three members of the Guard. Her posture turned to a standing up, and she threw on a fake smile like she flicked her hair over her shoulder. 'Michelle', her name tag read, swallowed down.

"Welcome home, Alec, Jane an -"

"Hush, human, or I will eat you for dinner. Get bandages and other sorts and meet us with Aro. _Rapidamente._"

The woman went silent, taking orders by flustering around behind her desk for a tool kit. Her heart rate sped, not helping their situation very much. Felix fixed his hunting gear around the throat, suddenly feeling very closed in.

"Felix," Jane spoke again, catching not only his attention and bringing it back to her, but somewhat testing herself, forcing her emotions to stay calm as she inhaled to speak. Bambi was wiggling a little, perhaps even waking. It was a very good, and a _very_ bad sign. Good, as it meant she wasn't a complete lost cause. Bad, as they had another flight of stairs and an elevator ride to go before they reached the glittering throne room, and she was starting to memorize the blonde's scent. Like her brother, she hadn't fed in so long, and how simple and easy would it be to just -

_No._

Jane turned up her chin towards the painted ceilings. She had more control than that, personally and physically. And, she knew that there would be no sadness that could fix her if she was to harm the girl in any way.

As they reached the elevator, the vampiress continued.

"Again, Felix, it would be useless of you to repeat the laws to me. I've been around to watch half of them be written. We vowed to watch the family. The question is reparable," He who was spoke of himself smacked his hand on the arrow button, sending it down in a leaching motion. Alec grabbed the metal handle, subconsciously taking a more comfortable stance - even in this life, he wasn't very fond of rapidly moving machinery. Jane didn't even notice as she tightened her grasp on Bambi, arms encasing her like a mother protecting her daughter would as they stepped out of the tin can, and hurried across the hallway to the grand show, "therefore I change my words: why did we let them die this evening? Now we are even more in the debt of this human who might perish in vain if we do not hurry to our destination quicker."

For this, there was no answer. No words. It seemed more rhetorical now, than an actual wonder, as they were _at_ their destination anyways. So they moved in silence, awaiting access to breach the chamber and bring Aro the spotty news.

Jane took a small look down at the teenage woman in her arms, ruby eyes curious as they stood as still as statues. What she found were a pair of dazed, brown eyes looking back, unseeing. It looked like she was saying something, but if it was Alec stepping up to take gentle care of his sister and once more rid her of her senses, or if Bambi couldn't find words, would be for only her and her brother to know.

"Do not worry, Bambi," Jane said softly, condescendingly, yet said in the nicest of ways, "for there is no harm with us."

Jane finally smiled. Not a happy smile, but instead, she felt a triumphant expression breach her face, and they walked forward in unison, right into the heart of the city - the Volturi throne room.

Aro looked up from a paper upon his seat, grin lacing his expression.

"_Finally_."

* * *

**TTTA:**

**What purpose did Stefan and Vladimir have for almost succeeding in the murder of the entire de Luca family, and why does the Volturi owe their lives to them?**

* * *

**NCP:**

** Bambi has to make a choice - will she allow her mother's past dictate her future, or will she make her own destiny?**

* * *

**Stay tuned to find out!**


End file.
